


Mine Carts and Raging Fires

by alphvjensen



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt Sam Winchester, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-10-19 10:44:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10638246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alphvjensen/pseuds/alphvjensen
Summary: It’s a simple hunt. Or at least as simple as a wendigo hunt in an abandoned coal mine can be. And a hunt that should be a cut and dry kill, turns into a fight for Dean’s life as Sam tries to keep them both alive.





	

There’s smoke that hangs heavy in the air, dust and dirt mixing in with it making it even harder to breathe than it already was. There’s light up ahead, the opening to the tunnel, calling out to both brothers. He’s not really sure where he is. He’s lost whatever direction he was going in a few tunnels ago and he hopes that this opening will lead him and his brother to safety.

He doesn’t want to think about what will happen if it’s not. He’s not sure that he can turn back, find another way out.

Sam blinks and physically has to shake his head to get rid of the darkness that’s pulling at the corner of his eyes, begging, pleading for him to just stop for a moment, just a second to rest. But he can’t. So instead he stumbles over the rocks and rubble and the broken track for the mine carts as he carries Dean closer and closer towards the light.

Dean is heavy, really heavy pressed up against Sam’s side. He’s barely able to stand up, Sam carrying most of Dean’s weight.

Sam wants to stop, his lungs burn as he breathes in the smoke but the thought that Dean can’t carry himself and that he is their last hope keeps him up right, keeps him struggling towards that opening.

Every step feels like he has cement covering his feet, keeping him bound to the floor and Dean’s trying, he desperately trying to carry his own weight but his body has given up on him. Sam’s lost track how long, how many days they’ve been stuck down in the mine but he knows that he hasn’t eaten anything in at least twenty four hours and Dean is only worse. The stupid, hard headed motherfucker gave Sam his rations, saving just a bite or two himself because  _ Sammy has to eat. _

Looking back on it now, Sam wishes that he told Dean no, that he didn’t wolf down that food like the starving man he was, that he told Dean that he needed to eat too because maybe, just maybe Dean would have the energy to walk. To breathe.

Somehow they make it to the light that Sam saw and he groans, looking up at the sunlight pouring into the mine. It’s a ladder, screwed into the wall that leads up to outside. An escape hatch of some sort and Sam should have felt relieved because a few feet above him is clean air and somewhere there would be the Impala and they would be okay.

Only they’re not going to be because now that he’s no longer moving, he’s finding it even harder to keep going forward.

And even if Sam could climb up that ladder there’s no way that Dean could.

Sam looks down at his brother who has one arm draped desperately around Sam’s shoulder, fingers closing into a fist at the front of his jacket as he tries to stand and something clenches at Sam’s heart because Dean’s eyes are half closed and he’s fighting against it, fighting against sleeping but it’s a battle that Dean is losing.

He’s sagging heavily against Sam and the leg that the wendigo snapped in half he’s not putting any pressure on anymore. Sam wraps his around tighter around Dean’s waist and tries to pull him up straighter because Dean can’t pass out, not now, not where they’re so close to getting out.

And he  _ can’t _ pull Dean up because if Dean passed out that would be a hundred and eighty pounds of dead weight that he physically doesn’t have the strength to carry.

“Dean. Come on, Dean. You’ve gotta stay awake man.” Sam pats the side of Dean’s face and Dean makes a sound or tries to make a sound and his eyes open a little wider before they shut again.

He sags heavier against Sam.

“Dean, please. It’s not that much farther.” It’s a lie. Sam really doesn’t know how far they have to go. These mines, these old abandoned mines, they go on for miles underneath the surface of the earth and the entrance that they came in, where the Impala is parked, he doesn’t know where that is.

Sam’s lungs burn. With every word that he utters, every breath that he takes is another lungful of smoke and dust. His throat feels raw.

Somewhere, off in the distance, there’s the howl of the monster, the screaming of pain as the thing burns to death and there’s not a single ounce of remorse in Sam’s body as he listens to the screeching.

However the fire is spreading, setting aflame all the old wooden beams and supports. Sam can see the orange flickers just off in the distance, inching closer and closer with every passing moment.

Sam pats the side of Dean’s face again, shifting as his weight to where Dean was standing more fully on his one, leaning to the side of his body that doesn’t have the broken leg and Sam pushes Dean forward. Dean weakly reaches out and grasps the rusting metal of the old ladder.

“You can do it, Dean.” Sam mutters as he positions himself right behind his brother, hands on his hips, his chest flush up against Dean’s back as Sam urged Dean forward, closer to the ladder. “I’ll be right behind you, Dean but you have to pull yourself up. I can’t do it.”

Dean nods once and he swallows thickly, grabbing the bar tighter and hauls himself up one rung. Sam’s hands are still on Dean’s waist and he’s doing his best to hoist Dean up but it’s not a lot.

He climbs up another rung and swallows down a shout as his broken leg bangs uselessly against the ladder and Sam clenches down on his teeth, trying to bite out the sound.

“You’re doing great, Dean. So great. You’re almost there.” It’s fruitless words, he knows it but Sam couldn’t help himself.

A deep breathe and Dean shudders as he pulls himself up yet another rung. He keeps climbing higher and higher until he got to the point where Sam was barely just touching his hips. Sam lets go of Dean and ignores the way that his hands are coated in Dean’s blood, painting them red. He knows that Dean is pale, pale from blood loss and pain and he’s still losing more. Back behind him, leading back to the way that they came, there’s a trail of blood staining the ground.

Dean pulls himself up just a little more, hand wrapping around the next rung as he pulls all of his weight up and then all of the sudden it breaks away, metal creaking as it broke. Years of going unused and rust weakened it just waiting for something to pull it away.

Dean falls back to the ground with a shout and there’s a sickening crunch as he falls down on his leg and it’s seconds later that the new onslaught of pain registers through his body. Dean lets out a shout that is raw and animalistic and cuts Sam to the bone.

Dean is in a pile at Sam’s feet and Sam bends down and grabs for Dean’s face. His eyes are unfocused but they’re wide and looking in the direction of Sam. Sam ignores the tears that are creating their own paths down Dean’s face, cutting through the dirt and grime and blood that’s coated on there.

He pulls Dean as close to his body that he can without hurting him more. Dean weakly grabs a hold of Sam’s jacket again.

“You… you need to…” A cough shakes Dean’s body and when he stops, there’s blood coating his teeth. “Get out. Leave me, Sammy.” Another cough, more blood and Sam’s shaking his head. “Just go.”

Sam’s shaking his head even harder now.

“No.” Sam spits out. “No, I’m not leaving you, Dean.”

With the little bit of strength that Dean had left, he pulls Sam down to him and kisses him, as hard as he could, wet and messy, kissing him with every ounce of desperation that he had. “Please… just… go, Sam.”

Sam kisses back harder, all the while shaking his head. “I’m not leaving you.” He mumbles against Dean’s lips, nipping at his bottom lip, biting hard. “You’re coming with me.”

When Sam pulls back Dean is looking at him with this look that Sam knows that Dean believes this is a lost cause. All Sam’s going to do is end up dying with him but he doesn’t say anything else and Sam wants to believe that it’s because Dean is willing to try one last time and not because he is too tired to argue back.

Sam grabs the front of Dean’s jacket with some new found strength and yanks him to his feet. Dean lets out another shout of pain and Sam bits down on the inside part of his cheek.

Sam keeps a hand on Dean’s back as Dean climbs up the ladder and once Dean’s high enough up, Sam starts climbing behind him, hand still on his back. It’s slow work and every now and then Dean lets out a shout of pain and Sam just has to ignore it because it’s the only way that they’ll make it out of here.

Dean barely has the strength in him to pull himself up out of the mine when they get to the top and Sam does what he can to help him that last little bit.

But they make it up, they make it out and the sunlight burns Sam’s eyes as he pulls himself out of the mine, laying on the ground next to Dean but he’s never welcomed it more. It feels like there’s knives plunging into his chest with every breath that he takes of the fresh air.

They’re so close to the Impala. Sam remembers this stretch of land and Impala is close by and he almost feels giddy with that realization.

“Come on, Dean.” Sam mutters as he rolls over to face his brother, trying to pull himself up right and that’s when his blood runs cold.

Dean is lying on the ground next to him, face covered in dirt. There’s a deep gash over his eye that’s still bleeding. The little bit of skin that Sam can see is just as pale as Sam thought that it was back down in the mine and the thing that really stops him cold is that Dean has his eyes closed. His lips are parted just ever so slightly, head turned towards Sam and suddenly every bit of pain that Sam felt that past couple of days completely disappears as he’s overtaken by panic.

“No… no, no, no.” Sam nearly crawls completely on top of Dean, patting his face. “No, Dean, you’ve gotta stay with me. Please.” He begs.

Dean doesn’t move.

“Come on, man. Please, Dean. I need… I need you to wake up.” Dread settles somewhere deep inside of Sam as he skates his hand down Dean’s face, fingertips pressing in hard into Dean’s throat as he searches out a pulse. He tries to calm his nerves enough to register one but he can’t… he can’t find one.

He’s shaking now, tears that he’s tried to keep from falling, falling freely now.

“Dean…” He tries one more time. “Please… wake up.”

He’s not sure if it’s his own pulse beating in his fingertips or if it’s really Dean’s heart still trying to pump blood, keep him alive but Sam feels something and then there’s nothing.

***

The first thing that he registers when he wakes up is pain. Pain all over his body and he hears the beating of something and the first thought that he had is for whatever reason Dean set the alarm clock for whatever reason.

Then everything comes back to him. The case. The wendigo. The mine. Dean getting hurt. Climbing up and out and then there’s nothing. Nothing but that insistent beeping.

Beeping in time with his heart beep.

When he opens his eyes again, he realizes that he’s in a room. A white room in a hospital and there’s people around him, all talking to each other urgently. Sam looks off to the side and sees the machine that’s making the noise and it’s not an alarm clock at all.

But Dean, Dean’s not there with him and he needs to know where he is.

“Where’s Dean?” Sam asks and his voice is nothing more than a croak. Everyone in the room stops and looks at him. “Dean. Where… where is he?”

They aren’t speaking and the beating on the heart monitor only increases in speed. Someone is now touching his arm and he turns his head to look at the nurse.

“Please, you have to tell me. Is he okay? Is Dean alive?” He’s desperate.

The nurse looks up at the heart monitor and then back down at Sam, her lips pressed into a thin line. “Sir, you need to calm down.”

Sam doesn’t like the way that she’s looking at him and he asks again, not even trying to keep the desperation out of his voice and once again she tells him that she needs to calm down.

She’s not answering him. She’s not and Sam can’t figure out why unless… unless Dean’s… he shakes his head. Dean’s not… no, Dean’s not dead.

Sam throws the woman's hand off his arm and he makes a move to stand up but she presses her hand flat to his chest, trying to push him back down on the bed.

“Please sir, you need to lay back down.” She says, voice firm. “You need to be still.”

Sam pushes her away a little harder than he meant and she stumbles backwards, eyes wide and Sam feels bad because now she looks ever so slightly scared but he needs to find his brother. He needs to. “Where is he? Is Dean alive?”

He feels more hands on him and they’re pushing him back down to the bed and he still struggles, tries to fight back with all the strength that he has but then there’s a sharp sting in his arm and the world starts to become more fluid, less solid and he plops back down to the bed, still begging to know what happened to Dean.

When Sam wakes up for the second time, he wishes that he could immediately sleep back into sleep. Everything looks the same, he still feels the uncomfortable bed underneath him but the entire room is spinning. He still hurts. His whole body just aches and he groans when he tries to swallow. Needles. It feels like needles.

But worst of all, he actually remembers everything.

He remembers that case and the way that they got stuck in the mine and how they almost didn’t make it out. And he remembers the way that the nurse seemed to avoid his question when he asked about Dean meaning that Dean… that Dean didn’t make it.

Slowly, Sam opens his eyes and stares up at the white, steril ceiling above him. Sam moves a little more, taking in more of his surroundings.

He’s surprised to see that Bobby is sitting in a chair right next to his bed, looking more concerned than Bobby would ever admit. He’s got his baseball cap that he usually wears clenched in between his hands, a ratty old flannel hanging off his body. His head his bent, eyes closed almost like he was asleep.

Instead of seeing if the old man is actually awaking (and asking where the hell he’s been after the million phone calls that he left while he and Dean were  _ trapped _ in that mine, needing help) he pushes up, head spinning as he looked around the room. But the second that he puts any pressure on his left shoulder, he immediately drops back down to the bed, pain racing through his arm. He spits out a curse, looking down at his arm, trying to see his shoulder only to see that there was an IV shoved in his arm.

“Your shoulder’s dislocated.” Bobby spoke, voice thick and Sam looks up to see that Bobby moved to put his hat back on his head and he’s not quite looking at him either. In fact, he looked… guilty. “They also say that there’s a tear in the muscle too.”

Yeah, that’s good and all but Sam doesn’t really care. All he wants his his brother and if Bobby’s here, he would know. Right?

“Where’s Dean?” Sam looks around the room again, not sure what he’s looking for but it’s better than looking at Bobby who can’t look at him.

“They also say that you have some swelling in the brain.”

Sam feels fuzzy all around the edges, he won’t deny that but he’s not so fuzzy that he doesn’t notice that way that Bobby looks like a man that’s keeping secrets and the way that he’s not answering his question about Dean, just like the nurse was.

“Where is Dean?” Sam asks again, this time keeping his gaze on Bobby and Bobby swallows thickly. “Is he… he’s alright? Right?”

Bobby looks around the room, his jaw twitching. “Your last name is Campbell. I told them that you two are together. It’s easier to explain.”

The heart monitor starts beating faster, keeping in time with Sam’s heart. “Bobby, why… why are you tell me this?”

“The two of you were jumped a couple of nights outside of a bar, by some guy who had a problem with… with same-sex couples. He took the two of you to that mine. Kept you there. Beat you.” Bobby is barely speaking now.

“Please, Bobby. What happened to him? You’re… you’re scaring me.”

“The guy wanted to beat the two of you straight. But then one of the gas lamps that he kept in there tipped over and set the mine on fire. They think that I’m a park ranger and that I found you when I would out on my patrols. They’re going to step up an investigation.”

Investigation? That meant… that meant that they would search the remains of the mine and find the… “They’ll find the wendigo.” Sam says like that’s the only thing that matters. That the monster that nearly killed him… probably killed his brother is going to poke holes in the story that Bobby made up.

“Told them that it was the guy that took you. He got caught in his own fire. Got killed by it. There won’t be too many questions asked. You’ll be okay.”

_ You’ll _ . Not you and Dean but  _ you’ll _ .

“Where is he, Bobby? I need to see him.” Sam tried to sit up again and he pushes up with his right shoulder as opposed to his left and this time he’s able to rise in nearly a fully seated position before Bobby presses a hand to the middle of his chest and pushes him back down.

Finally Bobby brings his gaze up to Sam and the look on his face tears Sam apart. He’s barely keeping it together, eyes filled with tears and he looks so damn guilty that it makes Sam sick to his stomach.

“I’m so sorry, Sam.” Bobby manages to say before he gets choked off with a sob. “I didn’t… I didn’t mean to leave you and your brother down there. If I had known… if I had…”

It takes Sam a moment for his mind to catch up with what Bobby was saying, what he was apologizing for.

“You called and I should have answered but I didn’t but… Sam, I am so sorry.”

His mind is still fuzzy around the edges but the pieces start to come together. Yeah, he’d called Bobby, several times over when they were in the mine, desperate for Bobby’s help and every time he called, it went straight to voicemail and he thought… actually he didn’t know what he thought. Bobby wouldn’t abandon them like that.

“But then you stopped calling and I listened to the voicemails you left and I… I got there as soon as I could but Sam… I am so, so sorry.”

“Bobby, please…” He was begging. “I need to know. Is Dean… Is he… dead?”

He shakes his head, breaking Sam’s gaze like he just can’t hold it anymore. “No. He’s not… he was barely alive when I found you but… uhh… the doctors say… they say…”

“I need to see him.” Sam sat back up and this time Bobby let him.

There was a moment where Bobby looked at Sam, mouth working like he was trying to fight but then his shoulders sagged forward like he had given up. “I’ll… I’ll go get the nurse. She’ll take you to see him.”

Sam nodded and he thought that he would feel better knowing that his brother was alive, that he made it but it felt like he had more butterflies in his stomach. Dean had survived but how much did he really survive.

Bobby returned shortly later with a girl in tow behind him and Sam threw his legs off the side of the bed, ripping the IV out of his arm, ignoring the way that the nurse looked at him. “Are you going to make me to…” He swallowed thickly. “To Dean?”

The nurse looked between him and Bobby before nodding her head.

Sam followed her out of the room and when he looked behind him to see if Bobby was following him, the hallway was empty.

His body still hurt as he followed the nurse through the hospital. He felt weak and tired but the prospect of seeing Dean kept him from saying anything. The nurse said that her name was Natalie and she was tending to the both of them but she warned Sam that Dean… well Dean wasn’t well.

He felt like throwing up when they came to a stop in front of Dean’s room and Natalie went to open the door, Sam grabbed her shoulder and stopped her. She turned and looked up at Sam, eyes soft.

“Can you… can you tell me… how bad is he? Really?” Sam was barely talking, barely making a sound. He was scared. Yeah, he was scared of what was lying past those doors.

She looked at the door and then back to Sam before turning completely around to face him. “I’m only his nurse, I don’t know everything but I can tell you what you’re going to see however, if you want to know more about his condition, you’re going to have to talk to the doctor. We can wait for the doctor if you want.”

The thought of waiting even longer to see Dean, to see his brother, it made him even sicker to his stomach. He  _ had _ to see Dean. Had to see him alive. Had to see him breathing.

“No. No, you can tell me what you… what you know and then call the doctor, I guess.”

“It’s up to you, Mr. Campbell.”

“Yeah.” He nodded his head once. “Do that. Please.”

She took a deep breath before clearing her throat. “Dean… he’s going to be in a bed, very much like the one that you were in when you woke up. He’s going to look like he’s sleeping and for the most part he is. He was in bad condition when he came in. There’s a deep gash on his forehead which we’ve finally got to stop bleeding.” Sam felt a hitch to his breath and the nurse reached out and grabbed his hand. Comfort through contact. “He has a lot of tubes running in through his mouth and nose which is kinda scary looking but there’s nothing to worry about. They’re helping him, helping him breathe.”

Sam’s breathing hard now, his heart beating through his chest and she’s making Dean sound like Dean was just on  _ this _ side of death.

“Is he… is he in a coma?”

She sighed again, looking at the door before turning back to Sam. “That’s one of those questions that you’ll have to ask the doctor but technically, not really.” It felt like the vice that was around Sam’s heart seemed to loosen just a little bit.

“Okay.” He nods once. “I’m… I’m ready.”

She ran her hand up Sam’s arm before turning around to open the door and it’s all lies that Sam is uttering because he’s not ready to see Dean like… like the way that she described because that’s not Dean. But she opens the door anyway and side steps out of the way, giving Sam the room to walk inside.

He has to steel himself, convince himself to do this because he’s finally here and yet his feet can’t seem to move. Natalie stands there, watching him, her lips pulled down in a small frown and she reaches out again, covering Sam’s hands with her own.

“I am so sorry this happened to the two of you.” She whispered and Sam had to wipe at the tears in his eyes.

Slowly he convinces himself to look into the room, into where his brother was lying on the bed and he almost can’t manage it. He watches Dean from the doorway and almost absentmindedly he reaches out for Natalie’s hand. She gives it to him without comment.

It’s scary. Really scary seeing his big brother like that. Natalie hadn’t skimped on anything. There was that gash over his eye that still looked fresh and open, red and swollen and looking angry. And then there were the tubes that were crisscrossing his body, going into his mouth, into his nose. There’s the steady beep of the heart monitor that’s looming over his body and she squeezes Natalie’s hand.

He doesn’t realize he’s crying until Natalie reaches up and presses a tissue in his hand.

Sam walks further into the room, pulling the hard plastic chair from the side of the room up against the side of the bed and he finds Dean’s hand underneath the white blanket that’s draped over his body.

“I’m so sorry, Dean.” He sobs as he rest his head against Dean’s stomach, running his thumb along the back of his hand. “I am so sorry that I wasn’t able… that I let this happen to you. I should have been… better.” He can feel Dean’s heart, the rise and fall of his chest and he feels somewhat relieved to know that Dean was breathing. He was  _ breathing _ .

But it’s because of that machine that’s right next to him. It’s a machine breathing for Dean because he’s not strong enough to breathe on his own and that thought only sends another wave of sobs through Sam’s body.

He cries hard, unable to stop himself until his body is too worn out to do anything but just sniffle and breathe. His lungs still feel raw and his head is pounding but he’ll take all that pain just if Dean will ever wake up.

He gets as close as he can towards Dean and tries his hardest to resist the urge to climb into bed with Dean. So instead he wraps his arm around Dean’s waist, pulling him as close to his body as the bed would allow and he just waited.

Waited despite the fact that the doctor came in and said that it would probably take a miracle for Dean to wake up.

**Author's Note:**

> thoughts, comments and opinions are always welcomed.


End file.
